Again, By Heart
by Mistress Martin
Summary: For the Eldar, love comes only once. He'd given up on ever finding it in this existence. Until an unexpected storm brings him to the isolated and beautiful Isle of Dalriada.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

He stood at the helm of the small gray ship, eyes scanning the vast ocean as the salty, damp air blew strands of hair around his angular face. It was unnaturally dark, even the moon seemed to be hiding behind the heavy, dark clouds.

The captain stepped up beside him. "Storm's a brewin, my friend. We are in for a rough night."

Legolas slid his gaze to the man. Tall, dark and strong, Barin had come highly recommended when he had first sought to undertake this journey. "I can feel it, Barin. It is quite unsettling."

The captain simply nodded. The two men stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Legolas cast his eyes to the sliver of moon playing peekaboo with the storm clouds and sighed. He had thought this decision would bring peace to his weary soul. It had not. Still, he held hope that peace would come when he finally reached Valinor.

In the past millenia he'd had many adventures, taken part in many quests. But those paths had shown him more sorrow, suffering and strife than he could stomach any longer.

There had been rays of hope, moments of joy, battles won over the darkness, friends who had become more family than the one he'd been born into. He'd seen bravery, kindness, generosity, self-sacrifice and love. He sighed at the thought of the latter. Many of his friends had found mates, the great love most dreamed of, yet over the centuries he had remained alone. Only Eru knew why.

He ran a hand through his golden locks. "I'm going to try and rest before this storm hits. Wake me. I do not know how much help I will be, but I will do what I can."

Barin nodded again. "Sleep well," he murmured to the retreating elf.

A lone figure stood atop a rocky cliff watching the sails of the ship far in the distance. She offered a prayer of protection to the goddess for those on the vessel. A vicious storm was brewing, the vibrations of it sang through her veins and set her on edge. She stood there, her eyes on those sails until they disappeared over the horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The morning dawned bright and clear, if a bit chilly. She reached for her cloak as well as her basket. She knew that after the storm last night the beach would be littered with treasures from the sea. She stepped across the threshold and grabbed a bucket before heading down the rocky outcropping.

She walked to the edge of the sand gathering seaweed into the bucket. Once it was filled she began to walk along the soft sand of the cove, her eyes searching for rare shells and pieces of driftwood suitable for carving. She was approaching the edge of the cove, where the rocks gave way to the vast open waters of the sea, when she saw the body.

With a gasp of surprise she dropped her belongings and rushed forward. Falling to her knees, her fingers searched for a pulse. The pale skin of his throat throbbed erratically under her fingertips. A small sigh of relief issued from her lips and she cast her eyes over the still form.

Long blonde hair was knotted and dirty, the tunic he wore was once a pale blue but now it was stained with mud, seaweed and blood. A large gash in the fabric revealed a jagged, deep wound across his chest. She noted another near his temple as well as one on his hip and down his incredibly long leg. She'd never seen a man as tall as this one.

She reached into the pouch at her waist and withdrew a slender silver whistle. Putting it to her lips, she blew knowing that within moments her kin would respond to her call. She reached out and brushed the matted hair from his face. As the strands fell to the sand another gasp fell from her lips. An elf.

Clamoring cries met her ears as Dugan, Bethina and Gregor called her name. They all stopped short at the sight of her kneeling next to the unconscious being.

"Aislynn, lass, what 'ave ye found?" Gregor's voice cut into the silence.

She looked up at the trio. "An elf! Help me get him up to my cottage. He is injured, but he lives."

The two men took on the task as Bethina retrieved Aislynn's belongings, before leading the way back up the trail. Aislynn brought up the rear, praying to any diety listening that she would be able to save him.

The men were strong, burly stock and had little trouble maneuvering him up the hill to her cottage. Aislynn rushed ahead, catching up with Bethina on the wide porch. "Ye never fail ta find untold treasures on tha beach lassie," the blonde woman murmured opening the door for her husband and brother.

Aislynn smiled as the men made the steps. "Put him on my bed. I will tend to his wounds." She directed the men. "Beth, would you put my things on the hearth?"

Aislynn bustled around gathering cloth, soap, and hot water from the fire so she could cleanse the wounds and determine what else she would need.

"If ye need anything further, Aislynn, just whistle," Dugan bade her from the doorway.

"Aye, I will." She turned to the other woman. "Beth, thanks to ye all fer yer help. I can take it from here."

Bethina nodded. "I have absolute faith in ye lass." With a nod she exited the cottage as well.

Aislynn moved to the side of the bed, wetting a cloth she began to wash away the crimson blood from the chest wound. It concerned her most for it was still bleeding steadily. Gently, she tore the fabric down the front, exposing his torso to her gaze.

She sat the cloth aside and placed her hands over the gaping wound. She murmured quietly as a brilliant green light began to shine, escaping through her fingers to illuminate the pale skin. After several minutes she pulled her hands back to find the jagged edges of the wound had knitted themselves and the blood had vanished. She smiled to herself before moving to remove the dark blue breeches and soft, worn boots. She made a mental note to ask Bethina to make new garments for him. With the exception of the boots, his clothing was ruined. She tossed the lot to the side as she began to attend to the other wounds.

The one on his leg was long, but superficial as was the one on his hip. A pultice of asher and feverfew would have them healed in no time with no blood sickness to complicate his recovery. Her assessment revealed a break in the long bone of his left arm. She used her magic to heal it as well, though she knew it would pain him for some time to come. She noted scattered bruises over the entirety of his body. She pulled the covers up to his abdomen before turning her attention to his face.

Gently she washed away the traces of the sea and blood from the wound on his temple to reveal the most incredibly handsome face she'd ever seen. She knew elves were said to be more attractive than all the other races but he must have been the most handsome of all. It would be a shame if a scar were to mar that beautiful countenance. She put her hand to his face and once again the emerald light flared. She continued moving her hands down his face to his chest and abdomen, healing any injury he might have that was not visible to the eye.

When she was finished she went to retrieve the pultice along with some wild orchid tea to help with the pain he would undoubtedly be experiencing when he woke. She dressed all the wounds, including the one on his chest, more for appearence sake. She didn't advertise her nature even with her own people and she didn't want this stranger asking too many questions.

She was glad he had remained unconscious through her ministrations. She managed to get a couple of spoonfuls of tea down his throat and he seemed to be resting comfortably. When she checked this time his heartbeat was sure and steady underneath her fingertips.

She stood, pushing her long slender fingers through hair with a sigh. She turned to his discarded clothing. She took the boots closer to the hearth to speed the drying process. She checked the breeches and found a small leather pouch in the pocket. She sat it on the mantle before throwing the ruined clothing into the fire.

She debated the wisdom of leaving him alone to gather vegetables to make a stew. He'd need nourishment when he awoke so she slipped out the door quietly.

She was in the garden when Bethina appeared with a package. "Merry met, Beth," she greeted her cousin warmly. "What 'ave ye there?"

"Merry met, lass. Tis a tunic I twas working on. I had na yet hemmed it, so it should be long enough fer yer elf. I put the smallest one in tha I could."

Aislynn beamed. "Beth, ye are truly the best! Can ye make a pair of breeches as well? And a cloak?" Bethina was the best seamstress on the isle.

"Aye. I will start on them straight away. Tis there anything else ye need?"

"Nay, thanks be. Tis still unconscious but I think he will live."

"With ye as his nursemaid I 'ave no doubt." Bethina laughed handing Aislynn the package. The two women said farewell and Aislynn returned to the cottage to begin preparing the stew.

She tried to keep her eyes on the task before her, but every moan and rustle from the bed across the room drew her gaze to the handsome elf. She hoped he would wake soon. Once the stew was on the fire she returned to his side, administering another two spoonfuls of the tea. She sat in the chair by the window and tried her best not to stare.

She found herself nodding off, the magic had drained her more than it usually did and she attributed it in part to the restless night she'd spent with the storm the night before.


End file.
